


Sorting

by nightbirdrises



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2294630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt, 11 years old, is off to Hogwarts. The first hurdle? Sorting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorting

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly just my thoughts on Kurt's Hogwarts house placement, so it's mostly Kurt-centric - however, Blaine is involved as well. Because why not. Originally posted to [tumblr](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/post/94309282756)

It wasn’t necessarily a surprise when Kurt received his Hogwarts letter; if it was a surprise at all, it was because he’s the first in his family to accept one, his mother having gone to Beauxbatons and his father being a Muggle with a fierce belief in non-magical solutions to things such as fixing cars. Kurt agrees with that principle in many cases, but magic is too alluring, too much a part of him to ignore even in the wake of his mom’s death three years ago - an accident, she had always enjoyed experimenting with enchantments but now Kurt wishes she had found some other hobby so she could have helped him during the trip to Diagon Alley (and so she could be his loving parent again).

Still, he has made it this far; he’s on the Hogwarts Express, whizzing away from the platform even as he watches the crowd of waving relatives fade into the distance. 

At first he has a compartment to himself, and is quite pleased with that. Of course, it doesn’t last long.

"Hey, Puck," a tall, awkward boy says, poking his head inside. "Oh. Sorry. Thought you were a friend of mine, I’ll just, um- Look, can we sit in here? Train’s full and stuff."

"Sure," Kurt says, sighing as he moves over, closer to the window. The boy gives him a half-smile, says, "Cool," and shouts his friend’s name down the corridor. A boy with dark hair shaved into a mohawk and a mischievous grin slips into the compartment a moment later, giving Kurt a once-over and glancing at the first boy as if saying,  _Really? With him?_

"Just sit down," the first one mutters, shoving the second into the seat opposite Kurt and sitting down next to him. "Uh, I’m Finn, by the way, since I guess we’re gonna be train buddies." The other boy scoffs. "That’s Puck. It’s not his real name, though, it’s—"

"None of your damn business is what it is," Puck says sharply. He crosses his arms at Kurt’s raised eyebrow. "What? Haven’t you ever heard anyone swear before?"

Kurt shakes his head out of annoyance and goes back to looking out the window. The scenery is breathtaking, really - like a painting that Mom would have liked to hang up. Finn and Puck start talking to each other at some point, ignoring him, which is more than fine. Even before Mom died, he preferred to keep away from other kids, mainly because they teased him. Now, after the catastrophe, he wants to spend time with other kids even less. His dad says it’s not healthy; Kurt thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to want a certain level of solitude.

(He loves his dad, of course, loves him more than anything. Part of why he wants to learn to control his magical abilities is so he can protect him, knowing that Mom took measures to protect them both, having sensed the disappearance of some inexplainable aura around their home after she was gone.)

 ”I’m joining you boys,” comes a new voice, startling Kurt and causing the others to quit their conversation as they turn towards the door. A blonde-haired girl, graceful and with a commanding presence, ignores their surprised silence and sits right down next to Kurt, who isn’t sure whether to be annoyed because he never wanted to be in a full compartment or relieved because at least this person isn’t another clearly dim-witted  _boy_. “Quinn Fabray.” 

"Did the compartment for stuck-up Barbie dolls fill up already?" Puck asks harshly. Kurt’s a little impressed that he was able to come up with that. "Or are you just here for the gun show?" Puck flexes his arms and Kurt rolls his eyes. Still a stupid boy.

"What gun show?" Quinn asks dangerous-sweetly, and Puck gives up; Kurt’s starting to like her a little more. Finn, on the other hand, can’t seem to stop staring at her. She appears to enjoy the attention and smiles, looking around at all three of them. "So, Hogwarts. Any idea what house you’ll be in?"

"Slytherin," Puck says immediately, leaning back in his seat with a smug grin.

"Contrary to popular belief, Slytherin isn’t just made up of assholes like you, Puck," Kurt cuts in, earning an appreciative smile from Quinn. Puck glares at him, but it’s not the worst look he’s ever gotten. "What about you, Finn?"

Finn shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t feel like I’m any of that stuff, like, brave or loyal or anything. There’s no way I’m smart enough for Ravenclaw; I still put my shoes on the wrong feet sometimes.”

"That is  _not_  how you create a badass reputation,” Puck tells him. 

"Can’t I figure that out  _after_  I’m Sorted?”

"Your turn," Quinn says, turning to Kurt.

"You first," Kurt says, unwilling to get into the subject himself unless he absolutely has to. 

“I wouldn’t mind Ravenclaw,” she says after a moment’s thought. “I’ve been told I’d make a good Slytherin though, so who knows, really. Anything but Hufflepuff; I hear it’s the house for all the leftovers.”

"Hey, that’s not very fair," Finn says, frowning. "I think it stands for some pretty good stuff."

"You’ll have to let me know what it’s really like when you’re inevitably Sorted into it, then," Quinn says, and Kurt honestly can’t tell if she’s being sincere or not. He quickly forgets about it when she turns back to him and says, "Now you."

"I don’t know," Kurt says honestly. "Dad says I’m a Gryffindor, but he’s not, you know, involved in the magic world—"

"You’re a half-blood?" Puck interrupts. Kurt purses his lips and nods.

"Anyway, personally I think I’m more suited to Slytherin. People in Gryffindor just seem kind of reckless, don’t you think?" Quinn nods along thoughtfully while Puck sighs loudly, exaggerating just how completely bored he is. Kurt gestures to him. "But if  _this_ Neanderthal turns out to be a Slytherin, I’m not sure I want to be associated with him.”

"What the hell is a Neanderthal?" Puck asks, offended.

"I see your point," Quinn says to Kurt, who smiles. Maybe sharing his compartment with some other first-years isn’t the  _worst_  thing to happen today. A moment later, the compartment door is being pulled open roughly.

"I’m looking for a kitten," a very loud voice announces. The group flinches, but Quinn is the first to recover.

"Excuse me?" she says, glaring at the newcomer - a girl with dark hair and the most ridiculous carousel horse sweater Kurt has ever seen. He’s suddenly incredibly glad that everyone wears robes at Hogwarts so he doesn’t have to suffer from this too often.

"I lost my kitten," she says with a huff. "She’s white, she has a pink collar with a gold star tag, and she responds to Fanny. Has anyone seen her?"

"No, she’s not here," Finn says before anyone else can cut in. "Kittens are really little, right? Maybe she’s hiding in one of the closets."

"Thank you," the girl says, smiling a little shyly at Finn. "I’ll take a look. I’m Rachel Berry, by the way. I have two gay dads," she adds, looking directly at Kurt, who gives her his best flame-inducing scowl. She whips around and closes the door, leaving them all slightly stunned.

"Okay, I refuse to be in the same house as  _that_ ,” Quinn says. Finn looks as though he wants to say something, but he just shifts uncomfortably. Kurt’s inclined to agree with Quinn, and Puck simply looks like he doesn’t care. The train rumbles onward, the sun setting outside the window, and Quinn sighs as she stands up. “We should change. I think we’re almost there.”

"Good idea," Puck says, nodding. "We’ll leave you and Princess to it." Kurt doesn’t rise to the insult or even feel particularly insulted - he’s too unexpectedly excited about getting to Hogwarts. Finally he’ll be where he’s supposed to be, and maybe he’ll even fit in for once in spite of people like Puck.

It’s a nice thought. Kurt tries not to think that he’s hoping for too much.

But where would he fit in best? With the brave? The bright? The cunning, or loyal? It’s a strange system, really, since it seems to Kurt that a lot of people could have traits that make them suitable for two or more of the Hogwarts houses. He thinks he might be one of those people, but maybe the Sorting Hat can push him in the right direction.

Maybe.

 

* * *

 

"Were you nervous?"

"Of course I was," Kurt says, scoffing. He turns the yellow and black tie over in his hands, examining it. "Weren’t you?"

"Not really. What are you doing with my tie?"

"Just looking. It’s not often I get to see Hufflepuff gear up close," Kurt says, tossing the tie back to Blaine, who catches it and goes to stand in front of the mirror as he ties it around his neck.

"You see Hufflepuff gear up close every single day," Blaine tells him. "You take it off of me yourself more often than not."

"Well, I’m usually a bit distracted when I do that. Can you blame me?"

"I guess not." Blaine waves his wand to tame his hair as if gelled; Kurt waves his own lazily and the charm is undone. "Will you stop doing that?"

"You need to embrace your natural hair, Blaine."

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me more about your Sorting. I didn’t get to see it, remember?"

"There’s not much to see. I put on a magical hat and  _voila_.” Blaine turns his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised, and Kurt knows he’s not getting out of this. “Fine. The hat talked to me inside my head.”

"As it tends to do." Another wave of his wand and Blaine’s hair is nearly flat again; Kurt rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t reverse the spell again as Blaine returns to the bed and sits next to him on the edge of it.

"It told me that I was clever, cunning, and courageous. I guess it had a thing for alliteration." Blaine smiles and takes Kurt’s hand between them, their fingers interlocking automatically. "So, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor were all considered for me. The hat pretty much decided against Ravenclaw a few seconds after it came up, though."

"I can’t really see you there," Blaine agrees. "The colors would have suited you, of course."

"Please. I can pull off any color."

"True. Go on," Blaine urges, squeezing his hand. "Did you ask to be put in one or the other, or…"

"No," Kurt admits. "I didn’t know what I wanted. Well, I did, but I trusted my dad’s judgment enough that I wasn’t sure. Not to mention that Rachel had already been put in Slytherin and—"

"And that was kind of a turn-off for you," Blaine says wryly. "I can understand that. I remember what she was like even in her second year; I don’t know if I’d have been willing to share a house with her either."

"Right. Finn had already been put in Gryffindor and he seemed nice at the time, so I was leaning in that direction. Come to think of it, my reasons for wanting one or the other were almost all selfish. Either that or it was because I respected my dad’s opinion."

"You’re not selfish," Blaine says earnestly. "You just… look after yourself. That’s not inherently selfish in a bad way, it’s just, you know,  _you_.” He reaches for Kurt’s tie and smooths it out. “The green and silver probably suits you the best out of all the house colors, anyway.”

"Mm." Kurt looks around at the bright yellow Hufflepuff decor trimmed with black; he always feels a little out of place here, but he knows Blaine feels even more so in the Slytherin common room and dormitories. Their relationship is considered even less likely than a Gryffindor dating a Slytherin, like Finn and Rachel, maybe because the Hufflepuff ideals of loyalty and justice don’t quite mesh with the Slytherin ideals of self-preservation and (occasionally underhanded) resourcefulness.

For them, though, it just  _works_.

"You’d have made a good Gryffindor too, just for the record," Blaine says. He has fallen back onto the mattress; he’s staring at the top panel of his four poster bed, upon which he has charmed the likeness of the night sky much like the ceiling of the Great Hall - though on a much smaller scale, and it always reflects the constellations above them whether it’s night or day.

Kurt has to admit that he envies the houses that are located in towers. For all that he feels as though he fits in as a Slytherin, the common room being situated in the dungeons has always been a bit too morbid for his taste. Ever since he learned how, he has made sure to conjure up a small window next to his bed. Blaine had been the one to teach him how to make it accurately portray the conditions outside the castle, rain or shine.

"What makes you say that?" Kurt asks after a moment, turning to lie on his stomach next to Blaine, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He pouts at him. "Am I not  _evil_  enough to be Slytherin and only Slytherin?”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “You’re the bravest person I know,” he says. “Though you  _are_  evil when you tease me like you do sometimes, I think the sheer level of courage you have could easily qualify you as a Gryffindor.”

"The difference is that I wouldn’t try to go through the Forbidden Forest on a dare like Puck did that one time, remember that? That’s just foolish."

"I remember you telling me about it. Why did he do that again?"

"He thought it would impress Quinn or something. I don’t know."

"I guess he falls into the category of ‘foolishly brave Gryffindors.’ At least he and Finn got to be in the same house?" Kurt snorts.

"Yeah, except they weren’t speaking for at least two years thanks to their drama over Quinn, until Finn pulled his head out of his ass and looked away from Ravenclaw to Rachel in Slytherin. I can’t imagine what it must have been like in their dormitory back then. Oh, and you wouldn’t believe how annoyed he was that he didn’t get put in Slytherin like he expected. He actually asked me in first year where our common room was; I think he wanted to sneak in somehow."

"He must have had some doubts about it," Blaine says thoughtfully. "I’ve heard that true Slytherins have zero doubts about their placement. But then again, you had doubts, too."

Kurt shrugs. “More or less. I can’t imagine  _every_  Slytherin expects to be a Slytherin. The pure-blood ones from old, snobbish families, maybe. But let’s talk about you now.”

"Huh?"

"Did you have any doubts? Other houses you thought you might fit into?"

"Not really. I don’t think I had any expectations." Blaine looks at him and smiles sheepishly. "I think I’d have been happy wherever the Sorting Hat put me."

"You’re a smart guy. I think your second house could be Ravenclaw," Kurt says.

"If you say so, then it must be true," Blaine says. "The real question is whether or not I could be a Slytherin like—"

"Nope," Kurt says immediately, shaking his head. "I honestly can’t imagine that one bit. You’re constantly putting others before yourself, and any self-respecting Slytherin puts himself before others, not including family."

"So… are you saying that I’m part of your family?" Blaine says, mostly teasing - but something in his eyes tells Kurt that there’s a hope there, hope for a future together in which they really are family. Kurt smiles warmly; he hopes for the same thing one day. 

 _One day_  is getting closer and closer now that Kurt’s about to finish off his seventh year. Blaine has a year to go, but after that? Anything is possible.

"I’d say so," Kurt says quietly, leaning in to brush his nose against Blaine’s. "You and all of our friends, really. But especially you."

Blaine grabs his wand where it’s lying a few inches away on the bed and waves it at the panel above them. Kurt watches as the stars rearrange themselves to spell out ‘I LOVE YOU,’ followed by a rather wonky heart. Blaine’s clearly still getting the hang of nonverbal spells.

"Almost got it," Kurt says teasingly; he points his wand at the heart and it fixes itself into a more recognizable shape. "There. Now it’s perfect."

Blaine kisses Kurt as he starts to turn back towards him, catching him off-guard and off-center. Kurt smiles into it until they have no choice but to break apart before they’ve even started kissing for real. Blaine’s lips move against his as he mumbles, “Get back here, Hummel.”

"Mm, I don’t know, Anderson, I kind of like playing cat and mouse," Kurt says, pulling away just far enough that Blaine has to chase his lips. "Or would it be snake and rat?"

"It’s a  _badger_ ,” Blaine huffs. He reaches for Kurt’s waist and maneuvers Kurt so he’s on top of him. “Now kiss me like you mean it.”

"Okay," Kurt says, "but you haven’t told me where to kiss you. I guess I’ll just have to go with… everywhere." He smirks as Blaine gapes up at him, locking the door and placing a hex on the handle in case anyone dares to make an attempt at coming in anyway (in true Slytherin-sometimes-Gryffindor fashion, he thinks).

In true Hufflepuff fashion, Blaine later takes the liberty of folding Kurt’s clothes as he takes them off, knowing how much he hates wrinkles. He even folds the tie.

In true Kurt-and-Blaine fashion, they whisper  _I love you_ s and other endearments to each other underneath the shifting stars that still spell out their love for each other even hours later when they return for a quick make-out session after dinner.

Earlier nervousness and doubts (and the rare explosion in Potions) aside, Kurt Hummel has had a pretty good seven years.


End file.
